Good Intentions
by Fanwoman
Summary: It's Elizabeth's birthday. To celebrate, Rodney has concocted a brilliant scheme, but even the best laid plans can go awry, a oneshot McKayWeir story.


NOTES: Drat! I happily posted my little fic, and _the very next day_, "Before I Sleep" aired and mentioned Elizabeth's birthday and spoiled my plot. Ah, well. It's fanfiction, right? It doesn't have to be canon.

DISCLAIMER: _Stargate: Atlantis_ and all things associated with it belong to other people.

SPOILERS: Hide and Seek

RATING: K+

* * *

GOOD INTENTIONS 

It was, quite probably, the best idea he'd ever had outside the fields of science. Not only would it give the others time to prepare for the party without any risk of discovery, it would, best of all, give him most of the day alone with his favorite person in the Pegasus Galaxy. A day off and a bit of fresh air would do them both some good. Now he just needed to convince her to join him for his brilliant plan to move into motion. Surely she would listen to him; she listened to him on most matters.

Rodney McKay knocked on Elizabeth Weir's office door and was invited to enter with a distracted, "Come in." She was already busy reviewing reports, a half-empty coffee mug in one hand. She looked up and smiled. "Good morning, Rodney."

"Good morning, Elizabeth," he smiled in return, trying not to bounce on his toes with enthusiasm for his plan; she might suspect something if he bounced.

"And what might I do for you so early on this fine morning?"

"Put down those reports and come with me to the Jumper bay."

Her eyes lit up. "You finally figured out a way for people without the ATA gene to pilot the Jumpers?"

"Uh...No."

"Is it really urgent?" she asked, glancing at the piles of paperwork on her desk.

"Yes."

"All right, then."

Relieved she'd agreed so easily, Rodney tried not to smirk triumphantly, distracting her with small talk as he escorted her to the Jumper bay.

Upon arrival, Elizabeth looked around, seemingly confused. "You learned something new about the Jumpers?"

"No." He opened the hatch of the one closest.

"I don't understand. What's so important..."

"Elizabeth, when was the last time you were off Atlantis?" He spoke in his follow-my-logic voice, but his grin belied his apparent impatience.

"You know I haven't left since we got here."

"Exactly!" he gestured emphatically, unable to restrain a bounce on his toes. "I also happen to know today is your birthday. So I've arranged for you to have the day off, with the added benefit of a day off for myself, of course."

"While I appreciate the gesture," she said, using that diplomatic tone of hers he always found so effective, "I really don't have the time to-"

"Ah!" He held up his hand to stop her. "You have permission from a higher authority." At this, he pressed the transmitter in his ear. "Doctor Beckett, would you please explain to Doctor Weir that, for the sake of her well being, she must take the day off."

"You _have_ been working yourself too hard," came the accented reply. "I know what Rodney has planned and fully approve. If your own health isn't reason enough, think of the others in Rodney's lab--they could use a break from him, you know."

"Gee, thanks!" growled Rodney.

Elizabeth laughed. "So it's doctor's orders?"

"That it is," agreed the Scotsman, "Try to relax and enjoy yourself. Atlantis will still be here when you get back."

"Well..." she said in an ambiguous tone that made Rodney briefly wonder if she'd really prefer paperwork to a day with him, "Let's go!" She smiled with an open enthusiasm he hadn't seen from her since Antarctica. All of his self-doubt melted away. Phase one of his plan was a success!

* * *

It was winter in their hemisphere of the planet. While the city was close enough to the equator to not have a significant difference in climate, the change of seasons was more noticeable on the mainland. Rodney was quite pleased the weather had accommodated his plans, grinning to himself as the snowy peaks of a mountain range rose on the horizon. 

"I didn't realize you'd become such a good pilot," murmured Elizabeth as they skimmed above the water.

"I've been practicing," Rodney puffed with pride. "We can't expect Major Sheppard and Sergeant Markham to pilot every away mission."

"It sure would be convenient if the gene therapy worked on everyone, but then not much has been convenient since we got here."

She sighed, leaning back in her seat to finish the pumpkin muffin--well...alien pumpkin muffin equivalent--she'd been nibbling on since the flight began. Although she had her feet up, to Rodney her words suggested she still wasn't fully embracing the idea of a relaxing day off.

"No, it hasn't," agreed Rodney. "The lack of convenience causes more work and, therefore, more stress. All the more reason for you to have a day to unwind. We can't have the head of this expedition, who is also our top diplomat, perpetually stressed...it makes you less diplomatic."

"Does it?" She sounded genuinely concerned.

"Yes. Yes, it does."

His mocking officiousness made her laugh. "So what, exactly, do you have planned, Doctor McKay?" she asked, equally officious.

"It's top secret," he whispered conspiratorially, "but seeing as you have the highest security clearance, I suppose it's safe to inform you of the mission's details."

Elizabeth dropped her feet to the floor and leaned close to him. "I promise not to tell."

He could just catch a hint of her morning coffee on her breath; it did distracting things to his pulse. The Puddle Jumper took a dip in its flight, and he hastily turned back to the controls. "We're going skiing," Rodney announced, as though nothing had happened.

"Skiing?" Her incredulity was plain.

"Yes. You mentioned in Antarctica how disappointing it was to be surrounded by all that snow without a ski in sight. I took that as an indication you enjoy skiing..."

"I do! But where on Earth did you find a pair of skis?"

"Colorado." Rodney declared smugly. "And it's _two_ pairs of skis, to be precise."

"I don't understand..."

"You know how we were all allowed to bring a personal item from Earth?"

"You brought skis?"

"No." Rodney corrected, "Corporal Swanson brought skis. Using the logic that it's always less safe to ski alone, she was given permission to bring skis and gear for two people-one for someone her size and one for someone larger."

"How interesting," Elizabeth smiled mischievously.

"I thought so, too," smirked Rodney. "She has already tested several slopes with the aid of Doctor Kendricks, or so rumor has it."

"How generous of her to lend us her skis."

Rodney nearly laughed out loud. It had cost him a good chunk of his chocolate stash to bribe the Corporal into loaning him her gear, but sacrifices were often required for the sake of a successful plan!

"Yes, she's very generous. Ah! And here we are."

Rodney was grateful for the mild weather; it helped him land the Jumper with a minimum of bumpiness. It was one of the gentler slopes Swanson had tried. Rodney didn't know how skilled Elizabeth was, but it had been quite some time since he'd skied, himself. He wanted it to be a relaxing day, not a bumbling-McKay-on-skis day. Besides, the long, gentle slope would mean more opportunity for easy skiing and less chance for broken limbs. After deactivating the controls, Rodney stood and offered Elizabeth his hand. Much to his pleasure, she took it, and he led her to the back of the Jumper where he'd stowed the gear, offering Elizabeth hers first. He couldn't help but sneak glances at her while she changed. Although she was doing nothing more revealing than replacing her regular jacket for Swanson's flame-patterened ski wear, watching her made his heart beat faster and caused a dopey, lopsided smile to cross his lips.

_This is not a date_, Rodney reminded himself. It could never be a date. He knew full well Elizabeth was involved with someone back on Earth, and as the leader of Atlantis, she was not in a position to have a relationship with someone under her authority. No matter how date-like his plans, no matter his own fanciful hopes, this was not a date.

"Swanson said her gear's adjustable enough it should fit you. I brought extra socks in case you need them."

"The boots look like they'll be fine, Rodney, but I have a question about how this is going to work."

Rodney finished stuffing his head through the bulky wool sweater he'd borrowed from Carson. "And that would be..." he asked while hastily swiping his hand through his hair to tidy it.

"How do we get back to the Jumper when we're done?"

"A reasonable question with a reasonable answer." He stuffed himself into his ski jacket, briefly wondering if he'd given Elizabeth the wrong one. "Near the foot of this slope is an Athosian hunting lodge. There, we will while away the afternoon by a cozy fire, eating the fine repast I've brought for the occasion," at this, he hefted a backpack. "Around fourteen-hundred--that's two o'clock to us civilians--Major Sheppard will arrive in Puddle Jumper 1 to return us to this Jumper. Then, I will fly us back to Atlantis with enough time to freshen up before dinner."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him in that way she did when she was seeing right through him. "First Doctor Beckett, then Corporal Swanson, now Major Sheppard? You put a lot of planning into this."

Not the potentially awkward question he'd feared! Rodney let out a breath he hadn't know he'd been holding. "You could say that," he replied nonchalantly. "I suppose I'm the expedition leader of Project Relaxation." He nodded to himself as he adjusted his ski boots. "Yes. Yes, I rather like that."

"What about wild animals?"

"Technically, all the animals on this planet are wild, of course." Rodney fumbled with his pockets until he found the life signs indicator. "Aside from having already used the ship's detectors, we have this." He brandished the handheld device, turning it on with a flourish and angling it so Elizabeth could see. "Nothing bigger than a bunny. Plus, the largest predator to have been discovered so far is about the size of bobcat. Nothing to worry about."

She seemed satisfied with this. "You've thought of everything, haven't you."

"I try." He was never any good at keeping self-satisfaction out of his voice, but somehow, she never seemed to mind it.

Sliding her ski visor over her eyes, Elizabeth tromped with a grin out the hatch and into the awaiting snow.

* * *

The sun was shining in a cloudless sky; the air was relatively mild; the winds were light. Rodney couldn't have asked for a better day. As he'd suspected, Elizabeth was as graceful on skis as she was at everything else she did. Thoughtfully, she never got too far ahead of Rodney, not that he didn't appreciate the view he got from being behind her. Everything was going according to plan. Naturally, it didn't last. 

They had stopped about halfway down the slope for a break, warming themselves with a thermos of chicken soup, or the Atlantian equivalent of chicken soup. It was a good thing it happened when they were stopped, otherwise they might not have noticed until too late.

There was this odd wuffing sound, then a rumble, like ocean waves or a distant train, except it was growing louder. Elizabeth's eyes grew round as saucers, and she dropped the thermos. "What is it?" Rodney asked, turning to look behind him. From the highest peak rolled a wave of white. It had just enveloped the distant Puddle Jumper. "The slope's too shallow for it to reach us," he muttered even as he ran through the math in this head. Without really knowing how deep the snow was, of course it might reach them.

Scanning down the slope, Rodney quickly determined their safest option was beneath a gentle rise in the forest to the right. "That way!" he pointed, shoving Elizabeth into motion. Although he nearly lost control of his skis countless times, he managed to keep up with her, but they were not fast enough. With a deafening roar, they were engulfed in white.

* * *

When Rodney regained consciousness, his first thought was: _Am I dead?_ But a myriad of aches and pains soon convinced him otherwise. He felt like he was floating yet weighed down at the same time. Where was he? What had happened? Why was he so cold? 

Then he remembered, and his heart stopped in terror.

"Elizabeth!" His hoarse shout echoed in the small pocket of air around his head and inside his helmet, causing him to wince.

For a moment, Rodney thrashed wildly, futilely, unable to figure out which way was up. He'd do her no good by panicking, though he couldn't begin to calm his racing pulse. He took a deep breath, only to cough out snow. Slowly, with great effort, he moved, creating a space for himself in the snow. His head still spinning, he pulled a glove off and dropped it to figure out which way to dig. In a minute or two, he was on the surface, but there was no sign of Elizabeth.

How long had he been out? Did she have air? How long could she last?

Remembering the indicator, he scrambled to pull it out. Thumbing the switch, Rodney was relieved it was undamaged. When it showed there was another life sign as large as his aboutten meters away, a sob of joy escaped him.

The skis had popped off his boots during the avalanche, so he sank deeply into the snow with every step. It seemed to take forever to reach the location on the indicator. Spotting the tip of a ski poking through the snow, he dropped the device to dig feverishly with both hands. He found Elizabeth's elbow first, but that was enough to buoy his flagging energy. As he dug to reveal more of her, it seemed everything was as it should be--nothing at unnatural angles--but there was still no movement.

At last, he uncovered Elizabeth's face. Ripping off his gloves, Rodney dug under her collar to be rewarded with a pulse. She was alive! Of course she was alive--otherwise the indicator wouldn't have picked her up!

With great care, he dug the whole of her out and slid her gently onto one of the thin, shiny insulation blankets from the backpack. Carson would probably have his head for moving someone with potential injuries, but he had to keep her warm until they were found. Checking the time, it wasn't even noon, yet. Sheppard wouldn't be showing up for hours, and the radio wasn't responding. With Elizabeth still unconscious, Rodney didn't want to move her any more than he had to, so he started building a shelter for them, instead. He'd built plenty of snow forts in his childhood, but he'd never thought his skills would have any practical use. He also uncovered Elizabeth's skis, figuring they might come in handy at some point. Plus, Swanson would be less likely to kill him for losing only one pair. Maybe he could convince the Corporal they'd find his pair after the spring thaw?

* * *

Rodney was just sitting back to eat a Power Bar when Elizabeth stirred. "Elizabeth? Oh, thank God!" 

She reached out a hand, which he eagerly grasped. "You have to lie still; you could be injured."

"Rodney?"

"Yes. Sorry about all this. Not exactly the relaxing day I had planned. Not that you can really plan on an avalanche, but I obviously wouldn't have chosen this slope if I'd had any idea-"

"Rodney!"

"Yes?"

"Where are we?" Elizabeth's helmeted head turned from side to side, taking in her surroundings.

"Oh. I built us an igloo. Well, it's actually more of a snow fort, but it does a decent enough job of keeping out the worst of the cold."

"Are you all right?"

"I may not be particularly athletic, Elizabeth, but I'm definitely not fragile," he assured her.

"But are you all right?" She squeezed his arm.

"As far as I can tell. You should be more worried about yourself. You were out for a long time. How are you feeling?"

"Everything aches."

"Does anything feel broken? I didn't want to move you too much. I left your helmet on, just in case. Do you think you can sit up?"

"I think so. Help me."

Holding her arm with one hand, Rodney reached behind her to support her back. She sat up with a groan.

"Ow."

"What?"

"I'm not so sure about my leg."

"This one?"

"OWWW!"

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!"

Gritting her teeth, Elizabeth demanded, "Get this thing off me, will you?" fussing with her helmet's strap. Rodney stripped off his gloves and hastily unfastened it, helping her slide it off and setting it next to his own. Then he took the cap off his head and put it on hers. "You lose somewhere between a third and half of your body heat through your head," he lectured.

"This jacket has a hood, doesn't it?"

"Oh, of course." Rodney put her hood up for her, nearly covering her face, since her jacket wasn't intended for someone quite so petite. "How's that?"

"That's not what I meant," she said, pushing the hood back far enough so she could see him. "Couldn't you use this cap, yourself?"

"Oh, there's another one." He fished it out of the backpack and put it on. It matched the sweater and had a rather ridiculous pompom on the top. "But you have to promise me you won't laugh," he added, tweaking the pompom.

Elizabeth laughed. "Is that yours?"

"No. It's Carson's. His mother knitted both this and the sweater for him to bring on his trip." Rodney sat up straighter and gave the creamy wool a tug so she could see the pattern in the sweater more clearly. "I don't quite see how the pompom relates to the design."

She laughed again, then gaped. "Wait--you're not wearing your jacket!"

Rodney snorted. "It only freezing in here, Elizabeth, and I figured you needed it more. Besides, have you ever worn a sweater like this?" He tugged at the collar for emphasis. "I was practically melting when I was building our snow fort. Without any wind to deal with, this thing's like a furnace."

"So long as you're sure it's all right."

"I'm positive. You forget where I'm from."

"You're from Earth like the rest of us, Rodney." Her tone was coddling.

Rodney rolled his eyes, "Of course, but more specifically, I'm from _Canada_. I can handle the cold. Here, drink this." He pulled out the second thermos he'd brought for the day. "It's cocoa."

"Thank you, Rodney."

"For what? Getting you caught in an avalanche and possibly breaking your leg?" It had been such a good plan! "If you weren't all right, I-"

"It's not your fault."

"I doubt anyone else will see it that way," he grumbled. "Speaking of which, it seems my transmitter's broken and/or the Jumper took enough of a beating that the radio relay isn't working. I'd like to try yours so maybe we can get someone out here before two o'clock."

"Of course." She handed him the thermos, and he indulgently, if childishly, took a sip from where her lips had touched the rim. He knew his cheeks were chapped enough already that there'd be no noticeable blush.

After a couple of tries, Elizabeth stuffed her transmitter back into her pocket. "Well, so much for that."

Rodney checked his watch. "It's just before one, so we won't have too long to wait before they start looking for us. With the Jumper's sensors, it should be easy for them. They'll have a medkit onboard. I didn't bring any pain killers..."

"It doesn't hurt too badly unless I move it."

"Are you sure?" He wasn't.

"You'll know when I'm not." She gave him a smile.

"I'm so sorry about all of this, Elizabeth. I just wanted to give you a day away from everything."

She laughed, "Well, you've managed that!"

"A day without bodily injury or possible death."

"I'm sure I'll be fine. This isn't the first time I've hurt myself skiing, though it _is_ the first time I've survived an avalanche. How did you...?"

"The sensor didn't break."

"Of course," she nodded, "Thank goodness for durable Ancient technology."

Elizabeth finished off the cocoa in a long draught, tilting her head back and exposing a bit of her slender neck. Rodney couldn't help but sigh. Despite all the setbacks, he _had_ spent most of the day alone with Elizabeth.

"In the meantime, we might as well have lunch," she suggested.

"Huh?" Rodney blinked. "Oh, of course! I'm afraid I can't provide the cozy fire I'd promised. And most of the food's a bit smushed, but it should still taste all right."

"I'm sure it will."

* * *

Despite the familiarity of having spent a great deal of time together in Antarctica, Rodney found there were still many things to talk about with Elizabeth. She had been to so many places, met so many people, had such an interesting life, he couldn't imagine her ever running out of engaging tales to tell. She was so gracious that she never made a single comment about her personal discomfort. Were their situations reversed, he could easily imagine he would be complaining nonstop. 

As surprisingly pleasant as it was, it couldn't last. Shortly after two, Rodney heard the sound of an approaching Jumper. "Right on time." He was torn between relief that Elizabeth would finally be on her way to proper medical care and disappointment that his time with her was coming to an end. Tugging off Carson's cap, he stuffed it into the backpack then exited his snow fort to wave at the Jumper. Once he was sure he'd been spotted, Rodney went back inside and slipped on the backpack. Then, he attached the harness he'd jury-rigged to pull Elizabeth out of the shelter, having made a makeshift stretcher out of the skis, insulation blankets and duct tape. He felt more plowhorsey than manly, slogging through the snow to the Jumper, but he got the job done. Gasping, he collapsed on the lip of the Jumper's ramp to catch his breath.

"McKay!" barked Sheppard, gesturing at Elizabeth. "What did you do!"

Before Rodney could respond, Elizabeth answered matter-of-factly, "He saved me from an avalanche, Major. Now, if you would be so kind, I think I'd like to return to Atlantis and have a visit with Doctor Beckett."

Sheppard opened his mouth, as though he had something more to say, then he closed it and nodded. "Right. Good idea."

"Here," huffed Rodney, using both hands to pull his legs out of the snow, one at a time. It was wonderful to finally stand on something solid again! "Let's get her off the floor."

Using the ski-stretcher, they lifted Elizabeth to one of the benches. Sheppard covered her with a blanket from the ship's supplies while Rodney dug through the medkit for Tylenol. Once she was settled to their satisfaction, Sheppard took the controls and headed back to Atlantis.

Rodney elected to stay in the back with Elizabeth, arguing Sheppard was the better pilot and one of them should attend to Elizabeth, but he was really intent on prolonging their time together as much as possible.

* * *

Thanks to Elizabeth being prone in the back of the Jumper, it was easy enough to drop into the gateroom--the most direct route to the infirmary--and avoid her possibly seeing the preparations for her birthday party in the mess hall. Carson did have a few choice expletives when he saw them bring Elizabeth in on a stretcher, but once she explained, again, her injuries were the result of surviving an avalanche, the Scotsman calmed down and actually congratulated Rodney on a job well done. That Elizabeth played up the usefulness of Carson's sweater didn't hurt, or so Rodney imagined. 

It turned out Elizabeth had a hairline fracture, as well as a concussion. After cutting through her ski pants--Swanson was going to have Rodney's hide for that--putting her in a splint and demanding she use a wheel chair until it was time to put on the cast, Carson declared her fit enough to leave. Rodney insisted on pushing the wheelchair.

There was no time to freshen up, not if the party was to begin remotely on time. Besides, other than the cut in her clothes, Rodney thought Elizabeth looked her usual, radiant self. So without much ado, he wheeled her straight to the mess hall. When the doors opened, the crowd of Athosians and Earthlings stared for a silent moment at the incapacitated guest of honor. Then Teyla said, "Happy birthday, Doctor Weir." That got the ball rolling, and soon everyone was offering Elizabeth congratulating and small presents--handcrafted Athosian goods and some creative gifts form the supply-strapped Earthlings.

With the help of several of Teyla's people, Chef had created a remarkable buffet, which Rodney enjoyed tremendously--other than the lemon tarts. Peter Grodin and other Control room personnel had made some surprisingly festive decorations out of old DVD-ROMs and an assortment of other technical leftovers. Rodney had to endure regular jibes for bringing their leader back in a wheelchair, but since he cleverly stayed by Elizabeth's side, she was always there to rescue his battered pride with her kind words of praise. Despite a near-death experience, his plan had turned out okay, after all.

When the party was winding down, and they were alone for a moment, Elizabeth reached up to tug on Rodney's sleeve. "I think I'm ready to retire for the evening. Home, James!"

"As you wish," he replied formally, wheeling her to the door and down the hall to her quarters. "Simmons and Swanson said they'd be by, later, to help you get to bed."

"Then I can thank the Corporal her for the loan and apologize for the damage."

"She's assured me she doesn't blame _you_."

Elizabeth patted his hand, "It was an accident, Rodney."

"Yes, well..." He wheeled her into her room and arranged her gifts on her desk. "Oh, and I almost forgot my present for you! Zelenka said he'd set it up for me; it needed to be tied into the room's power supply. I hope you don't mind..."

Rodney scanned the room until he spotted the small, U shaped device in the shadows under her desk. Kneeling down, he lifted it carefully and set it amid her other gifts.

"What is it?"

"It's a common Atlantian diagnostic device for small machinery," he said enthusiastically, "but I modified it to display any programmed image and replaced the activator with a manual switch that doesn't require the ATA gene. Here, give it a try."

Elizabeth wheeled up to her desk and flipped the toggle, causing a three dimensional holographic image of Atlantis to appear between its tines.

"Oh, Rodney, it's beautiful," she breathed.

As she turned the device around to see the image from every angle, the look of simple wonder on her face caused Rodney's heart to skip a beat. Just being near her made him feel better about himself, made him want to be a better person. She accepted and appreciated him for who he was. She was brilliant, with skills he couldn't begin to fathom. And even if she wasn't a blond, she was so very pretty. How could he not be infatuated? Still, he didn't want to risk rejection or burden her with his feelings; he had to keep it light.

"I'm glad you like it, Elizabeth, though it hardly makes up for breaking your leg."

"Enough with the leg, already," she chided. "Carson says it'll be fine. Besides, now he has a legitimate excuse to get me to relax more. Wasn't relaxation the goal for the day?"

"It was the primary mission of Project Relaxation," Rodney nodded officiously, "hence the name."

"Even with this," she gestured at her leg, "I had a lovely day, and this is a lovely gift." Then, to his utter amazement and complete delight, Elizabeth leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Rodney."

Despite his best efforts, he knew he gaped for a moment before gathering his wits enough to respond, "You're very welcome."

Smiling, he stood to go. "Wait until you see what I have planned for next year!"

"I can hardly wait."


End file.
